


Rescue Me?

by m4xw3ll



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Happy Ending, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, it's all about consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4xw3ll/pseuds/m4xw3ll
Summary: Peter, an omega, shares a dorm room with Harley, an alpha. When Peter runs out of suppressants and has to fight a villain as Spider-Man, things take a turn for the worse. But Harley is determined to respect his boundaries and help out as much as he can.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 235





	Rescue Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Why are my fics Like That.

Peter paced the room. He desperately tried not to think of the empty bottle of suppressants inside his desk drawer and the upcoming exam next week. And, of course, the oblivious alpha sharing his dorm room. Peter could practically smell Harley and his dirty laundry all across the room as he lounged on his bed and seemed to be deep into a book about thermodynamics. Which wasn't that unusual; Harley was a pretty quiet guy when he wanted to be, and if he wasn't, at least some of the time he offered helpful advice.

Peter knew he had been lucky to meet his roommate online. Harley was a full year ahead of him, but Peter himself was quick on his feet so they regularly held study sessions together, especially when one of them had an exam. Peter knew it was his turn to request some quizzing right now, but he couldn't concentrate. Not with his body running the way it currently did, that feeling of raw and sensitive skin scraping against his jeans and an alpha's pheromones this close.

Which made him all too aware of the fact that Harley was an alpha and a good-looking one, too. Not like Peter hadn't noticed that before, but he could usually ignore the kind of crush he had on Harley. Or at least not act that obviously, he hoped. Seriously, this _had_ to go away sometime on itself, and Peter currently waited for the other shoe to drop. Nobody could be this cute, helpful _and_ a relatively sensible superhero, even with a dirty mouth like that.

As if on cue, Harley groaned, stopping Peter dead in his tracks up the wall, and slammed his book shut. "I can smell you all across the room, Parker! Didn't you shower, like, ten minutes ago?"

Peter turned his head away so his blush wouldn't be obvious. That was what he had feared. "I did," he mumbled and dropped off the wall. Another unexpected perk had been to get the actual Iron Lad as his roommate, and after they had found out about their identities, Peter was much more comfortable running across the room. Harley had even left a path poster-free.

"Then why the hell –" Harley stopped. Then frowned at Peter as he dared to look back. Raised his eyebrows, sniffed loudly and his expression turned to understanding. "Oh. Oh, I see."

Was he really that obvious?

"Sorry." Harley sat up, book seemingly forgotten. "Didn't know you were an omega. You okay?"

"Yeah, well." Peter shrugged and jumped down from the wall. "Not like I didn't have suppressants. I'll be okay."

"You do know about their side effects?"

"I've been taking them for years," Peter argued, still not sure how he would look Harley in the eyes right now. He could smell the guy, too, especially right now. Their room was usually spacious, especially when they had the muse to actually clean it and keep Harley's dirty laundry off the floor so he wouldn't have to sniff it for half an hour each morning to find a decent t-shirt. But never was his scent that strong when Peter had his monthly heat episode. Which usually wasn't that bad with the suppressants and the accompanying ability to function like a normal human being.

"Explains how I never noticed," Harley shrugged but still kept a close eye on Peter. "You out of pills, then? Want me to pick some up for you?"

Which shouldn't be so embarrassing. Suppressants weren't all that expensive, and most of the time Peter could afford them with his part-time job and aunt May's help. But since her rent had been raised two months ago, she was a little short on money, and Peter didn't earn enough to go out and buy them all by himself. With a roughly third of the whole population being omegas, he couldn't even explain to himself how he was too _poor_ to afford something so essential. So the only answer Peter could muster was shaking his head.

"You sure?"

How was Harley so nice all the time? He knew he was lucky enough already, he couldn't ask him to go out of his way to help him, especially if Peter didn't even have any means to pay. It was only a few days. How hard could it possibly be to pull himself together? Peter sighed and nodded.

"You know." Harley spoke slow, eyeing Peter but still thankfully sitting on his bed. Peter couldn't even think of jumping into his lap – or at least he tried. And with his body itching the way it did, that book covering Harley's lap wouldn't keep his thoughts out of the gutter for long anymore. "I could help?"

"No, it's fine, you don't need to go –" Peter bit his lip. "Oh. That, uh … _that_ kind of help."

Harley looked down and Peter would probably die to get a close-up of his flushed cheeks. Which kind of made his stomach turn and Peter couldn't tell if it was in a good or bad way. On one hand – well, his hormones were happy. And his jeans practically begged to be taken off because they were way too tight right now. On the other hand …

"Absolutely not," Peter denied. He turned away from Harley, not really sure how long his resolve would last otherwise.

"Why not?" Harley asked. "It's not like it's a big deal? I mean, if you don't want it to be?"

Peter fumbled with the hem of his shirt. His hormones screamed 'yes', and not just since that offer had been made. He couldn't even count on both hands how many times he had looked at Harley and wished for him to notice Peter in more than a roommate-with-the-same-major kind of way. But this was a pretty big deal. Peter had gotten around his hormones for most of his life, and he was determined to choose whom he was with on his own, fully conscious and not at all on desperate terms.

But how could he possibly explain all that to Harley? He was an alpha, so he didn't have to be concerned with that. Well, at least not in the same way Peter was. There were enough rape victims who had been in heat and not able to fully consent, and most court cases ruled against them, arguing with hormones and natural instincts. Peter didn't want to become one of them.

"No," he finally managed to get out. "I don't want this."

He turned around as he heard shuffling and watched Harley put on his shoes. "Okay, then."

Peter frowned. Did he say this in the wrong way? Was Harley mad at him? He was supposed to learn for an exam! His thoughts got jumbled in his head and none of them made it to his mouth in the form of a fully comprehensible sentence. "What are you doing?" He finally managed

"I can't be around you," Harley explained, not quite looking at him. "Not when you're like that. Don't get me wrong, but I don't want to do something we both regret just because I can smell you ten miles against the wind." He tried a half-smile and Peter thought it looked kind of unsure, but then again, what did he know?

"I'm sorry," he tried, but the explanation was still stuck in his throat.

Harley held up both hands. "No, it's not your fault. I just … need to clear my head. See ya!"

*

Peter didn't see Harley for two days. He didn't know where he had gone or when he would come back, and yeah, not being jumped by an alpha because of his pheromones was a plus overall. But Peter felt his condition worsening. Even going to class proved to be difficult; he didn't know who was an alpha and who wasn't as respectful as Harley when it came to an omega in heat. Of course there were certain rumors going around campus, but until now, Peter didn't have to deal with them in any meaningful way. So he did what any sensible person would do: he skipped class.

He even skipped lab day with Tony Stark, who promptly texted him. Peter didn't know how to explain his situation without sounding desperate, and he couldn't be like that in front of the man who had given him the scholarship. A full ride through college was way more than Peter would ever be able to pay back in any kind of way, he didn't need to concern Mr. Stark with his personal issues. Not even aunt May knew he had run out of suppressants.

He couldn't skip being Spider-Man, though. There was too much responsibility on his shoulders to ever ignore that fact, which was why he was stuck in a too tight suit which itched all the way from his lower back downward and with a scrambled spider-sense which was stuck on 'horny' all the time while trying to get the Sandman back to Ryker's Island.

Which didn't work. At all. Sand encompassed him and formed into a huge fist and Peter felt dizzy as he was thrown all the way across a rooftop onto the next and hit the ledge, hard. Bright lights danced in front of his eyes and he couldn't tell which way was up, even with the cloudless blue sky right above him. Peter felt like throwing up.

He barely got to his feet and looked around. There was a sandstorm all over the place, or well, mostly the other rooftop. And it came closer. Peter staggered forward and as soon as the Sandman came closer and formed an upper body again, he tried his webs. Which went right through the guy!

"Give me a break," Peter mumbled and shook his head to get that weird smell out of his nose. It wouldn't leave him, though.

The Sandman formed a spear out of his hand and came at him. Peter jumped. His whole world turned upside down. Aiming became difficult, and as soon as he thought he had a clear shot, something hit him hard from behind. Peter hit the roof again, doing a somersault and landed on his back.

This was the worst week of his life. He had taken on Sandman before, more than once, which really didn't speak for Ryker's security system. But it had worked, he had beaten the guy. Now he couldn't even locate the water tank he had seen just a minute before! And just because of those stupidly expensive meds!

Peter's communication system came to life with a low static that gave him a sudden headache. He still didn't move because he wasn't sure where to place his hands to effectively move his body from that part of the roof. "Hey, need a hand?"

And then there was something red and purple flashing through his vision. Peter blinked and slowly turned his head, so as not to throw up in his mouth. The sand coming at that red and purple thing dispersed, and then his mind made the connection. That was Harley. In his Iron Lad armor.

"The water tank," Peter mumbled as he finally managed to turn on his stomach and get up on all fours. "It's … somewhere around here."

"Yup," Harley piped up, sounding way too chipper for Peter's liking. "I got your back, Pete. You can rest."

As if on cue, Peter fell over again. His legs twitched and he wanted to hear Harley's voice again. That did something to his hormones, which wasn't a good sign but he also wanted _more_. Peter didn't know when he had started trembling. And then he lost consciousness.

*

Peter drifted out of the darkness for a few seconds. Harley's face was right in front of him, mask up and a big frown on his brow. "Hey, you with me?"

Peter managed to groan something, not sure if it was comprehensible in any way. He was pretty sure he lifted a hand, briefly wondering why it was in his suit. And what he wanted to do with it. Touch Harley? Shove him away?

"Don't move, I think he got you pretty good."

"Ugh," Peter managed, then his head fell back again.

*

"Pete?"

Peter shivered and felt bile rise in his throat. He couldn't manage to open his eyes, but something warm and soft was all around him. "Mm?" He mumbled.

"Hey, darlin'."

That was Harley's voice, he was pretty sure. Peter's mind strained to hear more words, but he wasn't sure if there were any or if Harley had fallen silent again. The soft stuff around him wouldn't move as he tried to push it away. Or he was too weak to actually do so.

"Open your eyes?"

Oh. That's what he had forgotten! Peter blinked slowly, the world coming back into focus again. He recognized that weird Kiss poster on the wall first thing, then the blankets around himself and then Harley, wearing a scarf around his face. Which seemed weird. Peter wanted to question it, but he didn't manage more than a frown.

"Got something for you."

Harley held up an orange pill bottle. It took Peter a few seconds to recognize it as such, and then he couldn't really identify the writing. He managed to get his arms free and hold one out. He wasn't in his suit anymore, but his skin still felt too hot and raw even in a t-shirt. Even the sliding of the blanket against it seemed like a form of touch and he wasn't sure if he held out his hand to take the pill bottle or Harley's hand. There was a weirdly sweet scent in the air, one which Peter recognized from alphas. Only once or twice had it been that strong in his presence and it made him even dizzier.

Harley threw the bottle unceremoniously on the blanket on top of Peter and took a step back. Only then did Peter notice his hand shaking. "I'll be back," Harley said, turned around and pretty much fled the room. "Text me when you need something!"

Peter listened to the door slamming shut and fumbled with the cap of the bottle. He didn't know how or where Harley got them, but he somehow managed to get some suppressants and Peter was too desperate to question that fact any further. The pills spilled on the bed as he popped open the bottle and immediately dropped it. He sat up a bit to take one and swallowed it dryly.

*

That night hadn't been fun for Peter. His shirt was wet with sweat and his skin still felt weird and raw and way too hot, even after two ice-cold showers. But his senses slowly managed to come back to him and by early morning, he had managed to gather his and Harley's laundry and didn't want to roll around in said laundry to soak up as much of Harley's scent as possible.

So Peter was exhausted and sat by the open window to get some fresh air. He didn't even turn around or take his head off his hands when he heard the door open. It could only be Harley who came back after Peter had texted him that he felt mostly fine again.

"Much better," Harley sighed and when Peter finally turned, he saw Harley throwing his scarf across the room. "Hey, did you do my laundry?"

"Well, yeah?" Peter frowned at him. "Your scent was all over the place."

Harley raised his eyebrows and seemed to think about that for a second. "Oh, shit. Sorry! I should have thought of that."

"It's fine." Peter waved the excuse away with a hand and turned back to the window. And now on to a more … sensitive topic he felt needed to be addressed. "I can't pay for those suppressants, Harls."

"What?" Whatever Harley had been doing, he stopped and fell silent. "I don't want your money. And I bet Mr. Stark doesn't, either."

Peter turned around. "Where exactly did you get those?" He pointed at the pill bottle sitting innocently on his desk.

"Uh, I took your empty bottle, got a refill at the pharmacy and Mr. Stark paid for it," Harley shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal.

To him it probably wasn't. Harley had way less consciousness regarding those things, even though he was on the same scholarship as Peter. But that still wasn't his own money and he probably even was out of a job because he couldn't show up during his … episode. Peter groaned as the full consequences of those few days of hell made their way into his brain.

"Hey, look," Harley continued and sat down on the desk chair next to Peter. "You don't owe me anything. I mean, it's pretty fucked up you have to pay not to be like that, anyways. It cost me a half hour trip and a phone call, so if you _really_ want to pay me back, you gotta spend half an hour with me." That grin was way too cute for Harley's own good.

"I already do," Peter sighed and looked away to hide his blush. He still was a bit sensitive to Harley's presence, bu he fared much better and all the itching and tightness slowly went away, too. He would be fully himself crushing on Harley in a few hours.

"No, I meant like a date."

Or not. Peter didn't care that Harley could see his red cheeks, he needed to stare at him with an open mouth. "What?"

"Look, I'm not saying you owe me or you have to do it." Harley backed away a little, holding up his hands. "I just thought … I mean, I _didn't_ think."

Peter blinked. "Yeah, I fully believe that."

Harley huffed. "You're definitely doing better."

"Thanks to you."

Harley stood up and started pacing the room. "You scared me pretty badly. Sandman's back in Ryker's, by the way. I mean, what were you even thinking, going out like that?"

"I can't hide in my room when the Sandman's loose again," Peter argued and shook his head. "And, I mean, I wasn't alone. I think. There was a bit much going on at the time."

"You absolute idiot." Harley turned back around and came over, hands already outstretched, and only stopped a few inches in front of Peter's face. His fingers twitched. "Can I?"

For a few seconds, Peter didn't know what was going on. Then, his brain made the connection and he couldn't help but smile. How did he even deserve someone as careful as Harley? How did such a guy seriously want to go on a date with him? Peter took Harley's hands in his own. "Sure."

"Oh, good," Harley sighed with a small smile. "I wasn't sure. I mean, you didn't want to … you know, before."

Peter remembered their conversation a few days ago and shook his head. "No, I _do_ want to. I just don't want to when I'm like … this. When I don't know if I really want to or not because everything feels like a mess."

He wasn't sure if Harley understood, but got a nod as an answer nonetheless. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"No more calling Mr. Stark, either?"

"Oh, absolutely not." The grin returned to Harley's face. "He said he'll include the suppressants in your scholarship right away. You know, so you can keep your grades up."

Peter's blush deepened. As much as he wanted to protest this, he couldn't, really. This alone lifted a huge weight from his shoulders and he stood up to hug Harley. "Thank you. And you know …"

Harley hugged him back, still a bit careful. But the longer they stayed like this, the closer he pulled Peter. His scent was still all-consuming, but in a much calmer way, where Peter had control over himself. So he closed his eyes and let his head fall on Harley's shoulder. "I know what?" Harley mumbled into Peter's hair.

"Permission to kiss me whenever you want."

Harley's laugh resonated warm inside Peter and he felt lips against his temple. "After you're finished studying for your exam."

"Promise?"

"Oh, absolutely."


End file.
